


The Haunted (Van Dahl) Mansion

by knightinpinkunderwear



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2018 [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Canon Related, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dating, Dead People, Ed gets a nice family, Ed gets friends, Ed is dead, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Friendly Ghosts, GCPD, Gen, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, Os has a crush on a ghost, Sarah Essen deserved better than canon will give her, Sasha isn't really mean, Surprise! - Freeform, Talking To Dead People, a family that gets more supportive, cryogenically frozen person, dead character isn't dead, glass, lots of tags, the Van dahl mansion is actually haunted, the ghost likes him back but in this you can't really tell, with drastic changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 09:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14041275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: Day 3 Nygmobblepot week: hurt/comfortOkay, I got carried away. And it's still on time!





	1. The Promise

 

Oswald didn’t believe his father when he said the mansion was haunted, he had just thought that the older man had too much sentiment and too many loved ones lost. That through his grief he thought he could ‘feel’ their presence. It took about three days for him to realize that his father had not in fact been lying. The mirror not only talked back to him but held the visage of a completely different person. This person was a very bubbly and chatty man who had to be only a few years younger than Oswald himself. He knew that it was a ghost when the very same voice was chattering away with his father. Then, he’d been in a faint reflection on a drinking glass. Father seemed to like him enough, Grace muttered something about getting someone to exorcise the ground, Sasha nodded, and Charles sighed. Everywhere seemed to have that cheerful voice, in the library Charles and the specter would discuss classic literature, in his father’s study it would admire his tailoring abilities and make the offhand comment about wishing he had a body so that he could try on at least one thing. He wished Oswald a good night from the window in his room. Eventually, Oswald got used to it a smiling face greeting him in the mirror when he brushed his teeth, a head peeking in from a closet mirror and complimenting him on his choice in suits. Long talks from the window about various subjects, botany, chemistry, the best ways to dispose of a body. They’d joke and whisper like rebellious teenage co-conspirators. It was fun, having a friend. Even if he was dead. But that didn’t seem to be a problem until Oswald realized that he was growing a bit too fond of the spirit. Edward, his name was Edward. He smiled like the sun and his laugh was like bells. His voice had this inhuman quality to it, it was almost like music. Edward was a cheerful specter, whether humming, smiling, or giving you various tidbits and bits of wordplay, he always seemed to be enjoying himself. But when he thought no one was looking, Edward would shake, shiver, and his skin would grow a blue tint, he would cry and the tears would freeze in frosted patterns across his face. Once or twice Oswald had spied him crying, his image only seen in the curve of a crystalline spoon or the lens or an old pair of glasses left out. His heart would ache and he wished so desperately that he could hold the man, make him feel better. The second that Ed realized he wasn’t alone he’d always revert straight back to cheery, flushed a healthy pink, and smiling like he was trying to split his face in two. He’d quickly change the subject and get Oswald off in a different conversation introducing tangent after tangent.

“How did you die?” Oswald knew it wasn’t quite polite to ask such a thing but thus far Edward had yet to answer anything related to his death nor had he shared any of the specifics of his life. Not even dates. Though, according to father he’d first started haunting four months prior to Oswald’s invitation to stay. And Oswald had been there three months, which would make Ed at least seven months dead. Edward swallowed, not meeting his eyes. The lights flickered and Ed was deathly pale with blue lips and iced, unseeing eyes, a layer of frost over translucent skin and a breath fogging on the mirror. Wait. That was his breath, Oswald shivered, it was cold. A sheen of ice started building atop the reflective glass invading from the corners and slowly inching towards the center where Ed was. It was terrifying, he looked brittle, that if he were solid it would be all too easy to accidentally snap a piece off of him as if he were no more than a piece of ice. Instead of the landscape of the room in the reflection, there were dark, metallic walls covered in ice, with cold slab floors. Layer upon layer after layer of frost built up into a block of ice, with Ed in the middle of it frozen with his hands up in surrender or a silent plea. Panic in his dead eyes. There was a dark figure in the corner, a person in a long coat, something startled them and they ran, leaving poor Ed alone, stuck in a block of ice. His stomach was churning, his throat burning, he had to get out, _now._ Oswald turned and bolted, he needed some fresh air. Then he was outside gasping in lungful after lungful of warm, spring air. It didn’t soothe his stomach in the least, he wretched. When he finally made his way back inside Edward was sitting in the armchair’s reflection hugging his knees to his chest and looking over them with sad, sad eyes. They were apologetic too. Oswald met his gaze. “I’m sorry.” Ed smiled, --his brown eyes were so, so sad--it wasn’t bright or sunny, it was raw, grateful, _sad._ But it was a smile all the same.

“His name is Victor, and he didn’t really mean to kill me,” Edward’s voice was soft, like a whisper of wind. “As soon as I froze I followed him, he didn’t want to hurt anyone, not really. See, his wife was sick, she was _dying_ and he just wanted to help her,” Edward spoke with sympathy, and Oswald envied him, how was it that this man could not only forgive but sympathize with the one who killed him? Oswald himself had so much trouble forgiving so much as an insult.

“How does killing an innocent man save a dying woman?”

“She has an incurable brain disease, and he wanted to cryogenically preserve her so that when they had a cure he could unfreeze her and get treatment,” Why did he still sound so understanding? Sure, that man’s life was tragic, but that didn’t excuse the death of an innocent.

“Why did he freeze you?”

“I startled him while he was armed with his freeze-gun, he just pulled the trigger on a self-preservative impulse... I thought it was a normal gun at first, then everything was cold and I couldn’t breathe.” Ed shivered again, the blue tint was in his skin and the tears were starting to freeze on his cheeks. “I wasn’t the only one he froze, but the others were trials to find the perfect formula, he took their frozen bodies to his basement and tried to thaw them without killing. It didn’t work.” It sounded awful, sick, how could a person suffer to the point of doing _that?_

“Did he take your body?”

“No, he was too startled. I guess he thought there were more people around,” Ed shrugged as if he were talking of mild weather and not his own murder and what happened to his corpse. How he could act so calm was beyond Oswald, even as he scraped the icicle tears away.

“Did you go to your own funeral or, could you not get there?”

“Didn’t have one,”

“What?”

“I haven't had a funeral,”

“Edward, how long have you been dead?”

“A year and a half, I only found this house a while ago,” Oswald couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, that long.

“A year and a half? A _year and a half?_ What about your family! Your friends! Aren’t they worried _sick?!_ What about your body!?” A whole eighteen months, his family and friends must be worried sick, a sweet, bright young man with a future ahead of him-

“No one’s found it yet.”

“Isn’t anyone _looking?_ Your coworkers! _Surely_ they noticed your absence and reported it to the GCPD!”

“I worked at the GCPD,” Ed chuckled softly, smiling at him and the irony, “I was a forensic scientist with them for six years. And no, they didn’t, not really”

“Didn’t they notice you were gone? Didn’t they look for you?” the more Edward spoke the more worried, the more appalled Oswald became. How could people work with someone, a person as friendly and clever as Ed for six whole years and not worry enough to look for him when he suddenly stops coming to work? He knew the GCPD was corrupt and not known for keeping its city safe, but one of their own staff?

“I haunted them for seven or eight months after a month of following Victor. Then I realized that even dead, no one there paid attention to me; I’d knock things over and write in pen on people’s reports, and they didn’t do a thing. So, I left and started exploring, eventually I found the Van Dahls, by then I figured out how to make myself seen and heard, I just had to be in glass!”

“Why glass?” Oswald asked, not daring to voice any of the other questions that Edward’s story brought up, it wouldn’t do to have him shut himself off now, after all this progress. Besides, he’d been wondering why Ed only appeared in reflections off of glass and not the silverware.

“Well, I spent my life experiencing the world through glass lenses and I guess sometimes it felt like I was sealed away in a glass box…” Ed’s voiced slowed the words having a weight that slowed him, “so it only made sense that in death I’d have to be in glass!” He lit up falsely, quickly, trying to dismiss the somber words with an exclamation of discovery.

“Ed?” the ghost hummed in acknowledgment, “I’ll make this right, I promise you.”

“You don’t have-”

“I want to.” the tears that fell now didn’t freeze. And the watery smile that Edward gave him was worth all of the trouble the future would bring. He’d do whatever it took to get Ed a good funeral, to get him justice, to give him some dignity in his death. Oswald found he was crying too, he’d been holding back the tears for a while now. Letting them free now they were horror, shock, grief, and hope.

 


	2. After the Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The transition to the happy ending.

 

After the promise, Ed really started opening up. His full name was Edward Nygma, he’d worked as a forensic scientist, after attending Gotham University and writing quite a few interesting study papers. He liked to cook, read, and play video games. Edward confessed that he hadn’t been that popular in life and that he hadn’t had any friends. The more Oswald learned, the fonder he grew, and the more upset. Ed hadn’t been treated well, at work, school, and he would just shut down whenever childhood was brought up. Oswald wished he could have done something, at the very least give the man a friend before he’d died. They formulated a plan, and as the clock ticked down to the day, the nerves built up. At first, Oswald had wanted to go to the GCPD immediately, Ed chased him on his way to the door, shouting at him from various windows, mirrors, and even the glass chandelier. _“Please don’t! A week! I don’t want to go yet! Please, just one more week?”_ Edward explained that he wasn’t sure if giving him a proper burial would banish his spirit, that he was scared about moving on, that he wasn’t ready. The earnest waiver of fear in his voice, the sadness in his eyes, Oswald couldn’t do it. He sighed and let Ed make the terms of timing. The day came quickly and Ed was fidgeting.

“Are you ready?”

“Yea,” he didn't sound too sure, he looked even less sure. 

The car ride was quiet. Each second dragged on adding to the nervous energy. Ed was so nervous he had stopped talking altogether and was instead chewing on his lip and sometimes his knuckles in the car's window. Oswald kept an eye on him and shot a reassuring smile whenever the spirit looked up at him. The precinct was alive with quite a few of hubbubs of activity and an almost chaotic energy. After checking the pocket mirror that Ed was pacing in he made his way over to the captain's office.  

"Excuse me, sir, but-"

"Civil complaints are made at the clerk's desk," the bald man said, sparing him only the briefest of glances. He went straight back as if he was going to continue his conversation with detectives Bullock and Gordon. 

“I know where Edward Nygma is.” that made them pay attention. 

"Who?" The captain spoke, Oswald felt a swell of rage, not only had They not looked for Ed but they forgot him?! 

"Me," Ed said, Oswald bit his tongue and turned the pocket mirror around. Jim gasped. Harvey rubbed his head, he didn't seem to know if he was sober anymore. And the captain looked at it suspiciously. 

"What is that?" 

"A mirror," Oswald replied dryly, he didn't have time for-

"I meant how did you trap a man in a-"

"I didn't do this! All I've been trying to do is help him!" He just wanted to help. 

"Jim is that-"

"It's Ed," everyone was talking and shouting over each other. Ed moved, now he was on the office window. 

"I'm dead!" Everyone fell silent. Ed had moved, now he was on the office door. It almost looked like he was on the other side of it. But Oswald knew better. "I'm dead and I've been haunting his house for months! He's only been my friend and he only wants to help me! He just wants me to get a real funeral," 

"Who are you? What are you?" 

"Edward Nygma, I was the forensic scientist here until I died a year and a half ago. I'm a ghost." The captain looked like he was ready to dispute that but a woman shouted. 

"You found finally found Ed? Well, where's he been-" she stopped, she had just opened the door only to see that Ed wasn't standing on the other side but in the pane of glass. 

"Hello, Ms. Essen, and to answer your query; I've been dead," The room was stifling, Oswald could almost feel the horror coming off these people in waves. Ed fidgetted in the door, letting a little of that blue tint slip through, he shivered self-consciously. 

"I'm sorry, Ed," the woman really seemed to mean it too. Ed gave her a small, tight smile. It just happened to be that the woman was the Captain (and Ed's boss) when Ed was still alive, she'd been promoted to Commissioner and she was hellbent on getting Ed's requests filled. One purposeful look and the Captain shut up and let her choose a small group to retrieve Ed's ...corpse with all the necessary equipment. Oswald was allowed to accompany them, for reasons unspoken, though the sympathy and understanding in Commissioner Essen's eyes made it crystal clear. She knew. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it might, or maybe he was just busier with worrying about what it would be like seeing Ed as a real physical corpse, his stomach was already churning at the thought. 

The warehouse was exactly as Ed shown him, and the block of ice with poor Ed in it, that was the same too. Wide brown eyes, mouth open as if to scream and his hands drawn out in front of him. It was much worse in person, Oswald decided. But he wouldn't leave, he promised Ed, and he knew Ed needed someone to be there for him. With a few torches and hairdryers, the ice was slowly melted away. When they got to a certain point the torches were put away, no one wanted to set the body aflame, not that it would burn very well, being frozen and all. Ed had been pacing back and forth in the handheld mirror, he was getting faint. Oswald only noticed when his ghostly friend suddenly blipped out of existence. Greif hit him like a sucker punch. Oswald tried to reason that it meant Ed had moved on, he was in a better place. It still hurt. He snapped the mirror closed and instead watched their progress in defrosting. When one of the people got tired, he took up their place, standing in front, slowly melting away layer upon layer of ice. Not a minute later, Ed's cold body fell forward. He had just enough time to drop the hairdryer before the half froze corpse fell into him. He caught Ed with some awkward maneuvering --the cold was killing his leg-- and luck. Oswald couldn't breathe, something that shouldn't at all be possible was happening. Tears welled in his eyes. 

"He's alive!" Someone shouted, and they were right. Ed was coughing and gasping air. His heart was beating and he was alive. He was solid and real and alive. Oswald held onto him, clutching Edward tightly as he breathed in life for the first time in at least 18 months. 

* * *

 

Edward Nygma was declared found at Gotham General where he was treated for hypothermia and frostbite. He gained consciousness the next day in a hospital bed where he cried for a solid 15 minutes on figuring out that he wasn't dead and hadn't actually died. After another three days, the Hospital let Oswald take him home, Elijah welcomed him in with a big hug and insisted he take one of the spare rooms for as long as he needed. Edward and Oswald tracked down Victor Fries (they'd never had the heart to tell the GCPD who exactly had frozen Ed) and tell him which formula aught to work to preserve his wife until the cure or a better treatment is developed. The man was so grateful. Ed was offered back his position as long as he worked with the new forensic as a team. Ed spent a month wrapped up in warm blankets and hugs as he slowly recovered. Grace found him more tolerable as a living man, possibly because he son in law was so smitten with him that he was acting more 'respectable' and pleasant. Even Sasha started to warm up to Edward. Ed first kissed Oswald two months after they'd taken him in. Oswald took up his father's trade of tailoring and Ed worked forensics with a new friend that sometimes came over for chess, Lucius. 

Having Ed as a friend before had been fine, but now, when no one was watching Ed didn't look sad and lonely, he looked oh so happy. And Oswald would give anything to keep that smile on his face, to keep the glimmer in his eyes. Oswald knew he wanted to marry this man, but there was no rush, Ed wasn't going anywhere without him. To prove that they were already both sleeping in the same bed most nights --unless Ed fell asleep in the study while working on some case that absolutely fascinated him. Edward sat across from him at most family meals and started baking on Saturdays. Homemade waffles, Dutch baby pancakes, pancakes, muffins, scones, all from scratch. All of them tasted marvelous, even Grace had to admit that. Sasha apparently had a secret love for the culinary arts, with Ed's eagerness to share and collaborate they grew close and she started to loosen up. Grace seemed a bit peeved that both of her blood-related children had started to side against her, but she didn't dislike Ed enough to be that upset. Edward shone like the sun, so blindingly bright, alive and ablaze with light and joy and life. He smiled so brightly and his eyes were constantly warm and aglow. Oswald couldn't help but gaze in awe of him anytime he was within eyesight. His family figured it out embarrassingly quickly. Each of them had their own way of trying to push their relationship along. Though Sasha had the most direct and memorable method; she asked him point-blank _"When are you going to marry him?"_

Oswald had choked on his own breath, opening his mouth and closing it like a fish.

"Look, I know I've been hostile, and you've only been my brother for around a year, but I can tell you want to keep him. Besides, I'm not opposed to having a third brother, as long as it's him."

Oswald found those words far more encouraging than his fathers 'subtle' placing of jewelry and wedding magazines by his favourite chair, or Charle's book recommendations all including marriage or how to propose, or Grace, who fiddled with her wedding ring whenever he was in the room. They'd only been dating for 7 months, he didn't want to rush anything, to ruin how happy Ed was. Whenever he started thinking things of that nature, his mother's words would chase them away. _"You have only one true love. When you find it, run to them."_

* * *

 

Edward's first birthday celebrated with the Van Dahl's was the day. His favourite huckleberry-lemon scones, with a spread of fruits and kosher meats (courtesy of Olga, who'd grown to like him very much). He went to work for a half-day, to which he came home with a [Star Wars chess set](https://assets.catawiki.nl/assets/2016/11/29/c/5/4/c54413fc-b656-11e6-9304-fbdb62c60d9f.jpg) (from Lucius), a handful of cards, an[ Encyclopedia of Classic French Pastries that also held recipes](https://www.amazon.com/Encyclopedia-Classic-French-Pastries-Follow/dp/0930440366) (Oswald suspected Ms. Essen), a paper party hat, and a few pieces of confetti in his hair. Father had made Ed a [gorgeous dark bluish-green suit](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/8e/84/1b8e845eacb8c6b5fb7c60d5a51191f7.jpg), Ed gushed over it, a wide grin plastered across his face. Grace got him a matching set of onyx cufflinks and tie pin, Charles got him tickets to a lecture on the newest forensic technology and techniques by some famous scientist, and Sasha bought him a signed set of Bill Nye books and another few books on the chemistry involved in baking. They all knew that Ed probably already knew how most of those reactions happened and why, but he would enjoy reading them regardless. Oswald was last to present his gift. Edwards had been crying for the past ten minutes, babbling about how grateful he was for everything, for the care they'd shown him. Oswald's cover present was a [figurehead](http://www.figures.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=22622&d=1317231005) of a Star Trek character called Data whom Ed had confessed to being a childhood idol. Ed wiped his face and giggled self-consciously when he'd taken it out of the gift wrap. 

"Thank you, Oswald," his eyes were glistening with honest joy. Oswald took a steadying breath and pulled out a tiny box from his pocket. 

"Ed, I know that I haven't known you for that long, but it feels like a lifetime and you've become so close and dear to me, believe me when I say you've become an honorary member of this family, to all of us. And, if you'd let me, I'd like to make you an official, legal member." he pulled back the lid showing [the ring](http://cdn.ringscollection.com/featured/ori-59687.jpg) he'd deliberated on for weeks before buying. It was a titanium band, textured by hatching on the outside and with a smooth bismuth inside. "Sorry, I would've gotten down on one knee but I'm not sure I would've been able to-" 

"Yes!" Ed declared, pulling Oswald into a fierce hug. He smiled into Ed's shoulder. "Thank you, for _everything._ " Ed received congratulatory hugs from every Van Dahl. Even Olga voiced her congratulations as she moved to clean up the wrapping paper. Really, it was a wonderful day. The best April first there ever was, surely. 

 


End file.
